Getting My Feet Wet

Only four days ago, I was strolling through a medieval Spanish town, reminiscing about the past two months in Spain and pondering about the future at the same time. I had so many questions; many are yet to be answered. For what it’s worth, questioning and puzzled as I am, I think I have became more certain about myself.

Being abroad completely alone, I tasted the freedom and independence for the first time in my life. Every decision I make, I am fully responsible for it. I wish I could say there is no regret, but I’m only human…

To be completely honest, I did not feel like I was being “myself”. And here comes a hypocritical explanation: I let the passions run wild. While in the US, I never stray outside the boundary of rules and propriety. Spain did not change me; it just brought a part of my curious self that has always been there. But then again, it did not let it go 100 percent. I never got drunk and, no, I did not have intercourse regardless of how improper I had been. So it was reassuring to see that I still have a clear idea of what I will or will not do.

The biggest trouble? Courting. The pre-Spain me had stay as far away as possible from the boys, but the me in Spain was too curious – and too eager. Heck, I only had about two months, there was no time to waste.

But if I go back again, it will be different this time. I want to be “myself”, the one with a clear and static character with some common sense. I need to balance the passion and reasons somehow.